He was guilty of the weakness
of taking refuge in what is called, I believe, in legal phrase, a
side-issue.
"Don't say all this before Angela!" he exclaimed, with a kind of
artificial energy. "You know she is not in the least at fault, and that
it can only give her pain. The thing is between ourselves."
Angela was sitting there, looking up at both the men. "I like to hear
it," she said.
"You have a singular taste!" Bernard declared.
"I know it 's between ourselves," cried Gordon, "and that Miss Vivian is
not at fault. She is only too lovely, too wise, too good! It is you
and I that are at fault--horribly at fault! You see I admit it, and you
don't. I never dreamed that I should live to say such things as this
to you; but I never dreamed you would do what you have done! It 's
horrible, most horrible, that such a difference as this should come
between two men who believed themselves--or whom I believed, at
least--the best friends in the world. For it is a difference--it 's a
great gulf, and nothing will ever fill it up. I must say so; I can't
help it. You know I don't express myself easily; so, if I break out this
way, you may know what I feel. I know it is a pain to Miss Vivian, and
I beg her to forgive me.
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